


and now i'm covered in the colours pulled apart at the seams

by ryneisaterriblefan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abstract, Colours, Gen, M/M, Pining, XD, ambiguous - Freeform, but it's really easy to understand i promise, hajime sees things in colours, uhh, which sounds confusing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 16:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18253853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryneisaterriblefan/pseuds/ryneisaterriblefan
Summary: Hajime loses his sense of colours after an accident.(He learns to cope by categorizing everything by colour. Oikawa unknowingly helps.)





	and now i'm covered in the colours pulled apart at the seams

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea help

 The sky is grey.

 The sky is grey, and the buildings are pale and the roads are dark. The billboards are washed with ash, telephone poles smoky. Alleys and corners are obsidian.

 Hajime’s house is amber. His room is a dark teal, and his bed is stark white.

 The walls paint different shades of sadness. The mirror shows charcoal with sharp definitions of ivory.

 

 Aobja Johsai is azure, and his volleyball club is cerulean. The volleyball Hajime holds is cobalt and raven, the spike he lands on it is garnet, the thud when it hits the other side is gold.

 Hajime’s always liked being exact and precise (‘Surprisingly,’ his best friend says cheekily, purple) and colours help him remember things he didn’t appreciate before. It helps, not all the time, but it helps. It doesn’t help when the world is cold and midnight and Hajime can’t see anything to help.

 What helps is Oikawa’s sapphire glow.

 As time passes, Hajime learns to categorize things by colour, making it easier for him to associate with everything.

 

 Makki’s laugh when he’s together with Mattsun is lavender, his smiles soft amethyst when he thinks no one’s watching.

 Kyoutani growls crimson—crimson which fades into tangerine when he talks to Yahaba. In return, Yahaba’s voice goes from olive to butterscotch, almost indiscernibly. Kumini whispers with turquoise and Kindaichi responds with seafoam.

 When they play against Karasuno, Chibi-chan’s voice glows bronze, returned in steel blue by Kageyama. Tsukishima…was it? His voice flows gold, pretty yet sharp enough to cut, depending on how he twists his words. His friend is simply green, branching out in different shades to care and nurture.

 Their captain is clay and rust, their vice-captain is mellow periwinkle. Maybe somewhat like a marshmallow, Hajime thinks. Soft yet could kill you if you choke on him.

 Their ace is juniper, and their seconds years—the loud ones—are coated with fire. And surprisingly, carrot. Hajime makes a note to ask them if they like carrots later.

 

 But—it’s difficult sometimes. It’s hard to bear when people, especially Oikawa, overwork themselves. Hajime has seen Oikawa’s knee dripping angry red more times than he’d like to remember.

 He’s seen the onyx Oikawa cried when he thought the whole world was falling apart, when he felt he was falling behind, when he despaired and Hajime tried desperately to help.

 (Oikawa turns thunder when he calms.)

 

 But at the end of the day, Oikawa shines the brightest. While everyone else is worn out and tired and their colours fade to soft or dark, Oikawa still has a radiance that Hajime sometimes still can’t fathom.

 His whines of ‘Iwa-chan!’ come out cyan, and Hajime hits him affectionately. His chatter smoulders firefly in the dying embers of the sun, his hands moving in quick motions trail marigold. His steps leave footprints of shimmering scarlet.

 When he comes to watch movies with Hajime, his excitement comes out in waves of emerald, talking about aliens—Hajime still doesn’t know how he finds it endearing.

 When Oikawa watches his movie and Hajime watches him, he exudes magenta. (Hajime hides his smile.)

 

 When Oikawa confesses (to _him_ , of all people), Hajime thinks his voice is a soft baby pink, laced gently with indigo.

 When Hajime says yes and laughs at him for being terrible at confessing, Oikawa pouts in rose as he tries to stop his lips from twitching up in a smile.

 And when they walk home together after school, their hands entwined glow gold. They lie on their backs, barely leaving any space between them, as Oikawa describes everything, in colour, in immaculate detail.

 Unbeknownst to Oikawa—Tooru, now—Hajime smiles, focuses only on him, and thinks, _you’re the only colour I need_.

 

 (The sky is silver.)

**Author's Note:**

> idk if you like gathered stuff or if this was just too descriptive and boring haha feel free to correct any mistakes!
> 
> my tumblr's ryneisaterriblefan lol


End file.
